


Ashbury Heights (the Notting Hill remix)

by sullacat



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-15
Updated: 2011-04-15
Packaged: 2017-10-18 03:22:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/184453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sullacat/pseuds/sullacat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Can the most famous film star in the world fall for just an ordinary guy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ashbury Heights (the Notting Hill remix)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Reel_Startrek 2009 fic challenge on livejournal. Based on the film [Notting Hill](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0125439/), whose brilliant script written by the very talented Richard Curtis. Italicized lines at the beginning (and other gems) taken directly from the script.
> 
> No infringement intended. Neither Star Trek nor 'Notting Hill' belongs to me. Purely for entertainment purposes.

  


 

 _Of course, I'd seen his films and thought, you know, he was terrific - but, you know, millions of miles from the world I live in. Which is here - Ashbury Heights, San Francisco - not a bad place to be..._

 __

  


__

And this is me.

 __

  


_So this is where I spend my days and years - in this bustling area in the middle of a larger, greater city - in a townhouse my wife and I bought together... before she left me for a man who looked like Harrison Ford, only handsomer... and where I now lead a strange half-life with my roommate, Scotty._

* * *

Leonard walked down the stairs of his townhouse, absently running his fingers through his hair as he grabbed a light jacket from the coat rack. "Good mornin'," he called out in his southern drawl to Scotty, sitting at the small table in the kitchen, sipping his hot tea.

"A fine mornin', Leonard," Scotty replied, nibbling on a piece of toast. "Busy day planned?"

  


 

"No more than usual," he replied, debating whether to go further. Conversations with Scotty usually ended with Leonard being confused or annoyed. Someone as steadfastly adult as Leonard would typically have nothing in common with the eternal child-man that was Montgomery Scott. Still, he was a reasonably good roommate, clean, paid his rent on time, and if he sometimes didn't quite seem to 'get it', then Leonard could admit that wasn't the worst trait in a roommate.

"Well, have a nice day," he called out as he exited the front door and headed down the street toward the medical center. Subconsciously avoiding the faces of the people he passed, Leonard made his way quickly down two blocks and into his small bookstore.

* * *

 _And so it was just another hopeless Wednesday, as I set off through the streets to work, clueless that this was the day which would change my life forever... This is work, by the way, my little medical bookshop, which, well, sells medical books._

 

  


 

"Mornin'," Leonard greeted the man sitting behind the counter. "How's it been this morning?"

"Satisfactory, sir," the stoic man replied, returning to his computer screen.

Whenever Leonard began to worry about being a tired old grump, he reminded himself of his employee, Spock. _The man was born old_ , he thought. "There was a delivery made, and I placed it in the store room in back. Shall I unbox them now?"

  


"That would be great, thanks," Leonard replied as he took off his jacket and settled down at his desk. A few minutes spent reviewing his emails and other correspondence passed before he heard Spock's voice again.

"Ten o'clock, Leonard. Would you like your coffee now?"

"Please," Leonard replied, wondering how many other employees would have noticed that particular habit of his, and if Spock's consideration of his coffee needs was based on friendship or efficiency.

In either case, Spock always ensured that Leonard had his ten o'clock fix.

He heard the bell on the door ring as Spock left.

A moment later it rang again, too soon for it to be his shop assistant, so Leonard sat up and slowly walked into the shop proper. He noticed the man who had surreptitiously entered; he had a familiar look about him, but still... it couldn't be who he thought it was.

"Can I help you?" Leonard called out.

  


The man turned and looked full on at Leonard. Yep, sure enough, it's Jim Kirk, star of half a dozen action movies, regular romantic lead, Hollywood stud, People Magazine's 'Sexiest Man Alive' for 2010, and fodder for more than one of Leonard's kinkier fantasies.

That particular copy of Men's Health magazine with this kid in it lingered by his bedside for nearly a year before it fell apart, and now here he was in his store. Unbelievable.

"No thanks," the man said, "I'm just looking." Even with his trademark baby-blues hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, it's easy to recognize him, picking up this book, putting it down and choosing another.

"Let me know if you need anything," Leonard answered, heading back to the counter. He kept one eye on the customer, always sort of nosy when watching them select their books. He used to try and guess the specialties of the med students by the titles they selected, until they started getting younger and younger and became an increasing reminder of what he himself hadn't been able to do.

He frowned when he saw the other man select a lesser-quality coffee-table book.

"You know, that one's not really any good, unless you just want somethin' useless with pretty pictures. Now this one," Leonard walked to the shelf on the other side and picked out a book, offering it to the other man, "this has some good illustrations and some pretty useful information, if you're looking for that sort of thing."

"Sometimes a pretty picture is enough," Jim replied, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"True," Leonard countered. "But if you're going to spend the money, might as well get your money's worth."

Jim laughed at that, opened his mouth to say something else when the phone rang. "Excuse me," Leonard told him, as he moved back to the counter, taking the book with him. By the time he had finished scheduling next week's shipment, Jim Kirk was at the counter, the coffee-table book in his hand.

Giving him a look, Leonard slid the superior book he'd suggested into the bag as well, handing him his change. "I'll just toss this one in too - just in case you need some actual information, you know, to go along side your pretty pictures."

"Thanks man," Jim told him, nodding his head appreciatively before picking up the bag and heading out the door.

After he left, Leonard sat down at the stool behind the counter and exhaled. Hadn't even asked for a fucking autograph or anything. Still, it had been a bit of a rush. _Would've been nice to see his eyes_ , he thought before mentally berating himself. _You're a grown man, not a sixteen year old girl._

* * *

Spock returned not two minutes later with coffee for Leonard and his own Chai. "You ever met anyone famous?" Leonard asked as they sat at the counter drinking.

"Once," Spock nodded his head. "As a child I stood in line at a bookstore such as this with my mother, at a book signing for an actress in a television show she frequently watched. That is the only time, I believe." He took a sip, then looked up as if wondering if he should say more. "Have you?"

"Eh, no, not really," Leonard answered. And that was the truth, right? Selling a book, that wasn't quite the same as being introduced, having a conversation. No, he hasn't met Jim Kirk, he thought, taking the last swigs of his drink. "You know, I think I want another today. You?"

"This is sufficient," Spock replied. "However, I shall stay and mind the store if you wish to go. It is a lovely day today, and you might find the walk enjoyable."

* * *

Leonard headed across the street to the coffee shop, picked up his drink and headed back to the store, watching as a helicopter dropped to the roof of the nearby medical center. _Must be a bad one_ , he thought, absently wondering what sort of accident or illness had sent someone to the emergency room in such critical shape.

His eyes on the sky (and not where he was going), Leonard turned the corner and literally walked straight into Jim Kirk, his shirt now brown and wet with Leonard's coffee, his cell phone lying on the ground in three pieces and covered in liquid as well.

"Shit," Leonard muttered, looking at the surprised face of the other man.

Jim pulled off his sunglasses to look down at his shirt. "Aw hell," he shook his head, sighing as he picked up the pieces of his phone.

"Here, let me help you," Leonard offered his napkin to Jim, who took it, his face darkening. "Look, I'm really sorry, that was totally my fault. Did it burn you?"

"Don't worry about it," Jim replied with a resigned tone, trying to wipe the spots from his shirt, but to no avail. "I wasn't paying attention either."

"No, look. I live right around the corner. Let me get that clean for you. At the very least, let me lend you a new shirt."

Jim looked up at him and for the first time Leonard caught a glimpse of those eyes. Blue, not quite turquoise, but with flecks of gold and green that made them seem to sparkle. _Yeah_ , he thought, _definitely not acting like a sixteen year old girl_.

"It's okay, I just need to call my car back over here. I've got to be somewhere in a few minutes."

"I can have you cleaned up and ready in fifteen minutes, I promise." The more Leonard looked at Jim's shirt, the worse he felt. It was ruined... "And you can use my phone, if you need. I don't want you to be late for where ever you need to be."

Jim paused, as if considering what showing up to his meeting in a coffee-stained nightmare of a shirt would mean. "So when you say close, what do you mean?"

"Two blocks."

Jim gave him an appraising look. "Okay," he said. "But I have to be at my meeting in twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes, not a problem."

 

* * *

Leonard opened the door and let Jim in first. The other man seemed to be constantly looking around, as if watching for people who might recognize him. Leonard swore he could feel the paranoia coming off of him, and wondered if that was what his life was like, one day after another of hiding from the press. "Okay, give me a second," he said, giving Jim's body a look-over as he tried to decide what shirt would best fit him. "There's a bathroom over there, if you need to clean up."

Jim's eyebrow lifted a bit and a hint of a grin flit across his face as he noticed himself being ogled in an obviously non-sexual way before heading to the bathroom. Two minutes later Leonard ran back downstairs with a clean, pressed shirt, to find Jim Kirk, standing shirtless in his living room, holding his coffee-splattered shirt in his hands.

  


 

"I can try and get that off if you want," Leonard asked, trying not to look at the beautifully sculpted abdomen that was quickly being covered by his shirt. _His shirt_ , on Jim Kirk's body. Leonard swallowed at the thought, praying to God that the erection that was threatening to show up would wait until he was alone.

Something in his voice must have given it away, though. Jim turned to look at him, his eyes almost accusing before relaxing a bit - as if he somehow thought Leonard posed little threat.

"Can I get you somethin' to drink?" Leonard offered, turning away and heading toward the kitchen.

"Just a phone, that would be great."

"Yeah, sure," Leonard said, pointing out their house phone to Jim, who picked it up and made his call, speaking in a low voice.

"It's me. Yeah, I know. Sorry," Jim sighed, looking around. "Whatever... hey man, what's your address?" he asked, repeating into the phone the information Leonard gave him.

"They're just around the corner, should be here in a few minutes."

"Good, that's good," Leonard replied. "Oh wait, you missed a button," he murmured, stepping closer to Jim, who looked confused.

"Your shirt, I mean, my shirt - oh hell, let me just fix this," Leonard muttered, starting at the top and re-buttoning the shirt quickly, making sure Jim wasn't exposed in anyway. He finished, smoothing out the shoulders and grinned, then caught Jim's eyes and stopped. He didn't look angry, he looked... surprised. _That had to be wrong_ , he thought. Jim Kirk probably had a dozen people who took care of his every need.

What would be interesting about some old, grumpy bookseller.

"There you go," Leonard finished.

"Thanks," Jim replied, giving him a warm grin. Not the one that appeared on the magazine covers, but a smaller, quieter version of it, just as dazzling.

Leonard forced his eyes elsewhere, so not to get lost. "Where is your meeting?"

"UCSF Medical Center," Jim answered, looking around at Leonard's place.

"Oh good, that's just around the corner," Leonard told him. "What time does it start?"

"I'm supposed to be there in -" Jim reached for his cell phone, pulled out one of the larger pieces and shook his head again. "I think it was eleven-thirty."

Leonard looked at his watch. "It'll be close, but you'll make it."

"If not," Jim sighed, "well, there's always another job somewhere, right?"

"Don't be an idiot," Leonard said, earning a sharp look from Jim. "What I mean is, you're too good at what you do, everyone knows that," Leonard told him.

The idea of someone _not_ working with Jim Kirk because he's a few minutes late for a meeting was absurd. "Back home we have a saying - If you're gonna ride in the Kentucky Derby, you don't leave your prize stallion in the stable."

Jim laughed. "A stallion, really. Don't think I've been called that before."

"Oh God, I'm sorry," Leonard hung his head down, not having any idea where that came from, "that came out badly. I just meant, you know, you're worth waitin' for."

This time Leonard couldn't turn his eyes away, especially when Jim's face flushed a bit at that. "At least a extra few minutes, right? Let's hope so." A honk outside got both their attentions. "That's for me," Jim said.

Leonard nodded, his heart racing at the thought of all this ending now. "Sorry again 'bout all that. And-" _Just spit it out, Leonard._ "It was really nice gettin' to spend some time with you. Surreal, but nice."

Jim laughed. "Yeah," he said. "Well, thanks again. I'll get the shirt back to you."

"Keep it," he told him as they heard the knock at the door. Jim turned around to say "Bye," then walked out, closing the door behind him.

Leonard leaned against the door, head back as he closed his eyes. _Had all that really happened?_

He jumped a foot in the air as he felt, rather than heard, the knock on the door. Turning, he opened the door without even checking to see who it was, and stood wide-eyed as he saw Jim Kirk standing there.

"Hey you," Leonard said. "Forget something?"

"My books," Jim answered, stepping inside to grab his bag. Turning back to Leonard, he murmured, "Thanks again."

"Anytime," Leonard replied, grinning at the sight of this superstar wearing his shirt, standing in his home, staring at him. Before he knew it, Jim was stepping close, too close, close enough to fall completely into those eyes. Jim watched his face, hesitated, then leaned in even closer, giving him a soft kiss, lips brushing against each other.

 _Must be dreaming now,_ Leonard thought. _Hit my head on something, I'm just imaging this._ But the kiss ended, and the almost scared look on Jim's face - that made this all seem very real.

"I'm sorry about that 'surreal but nice' comment," Leonard said, wanting to see the smile again.

Jim chuckled. _There is was._ "That's okay. I thought the 'prize stallion' bit was the real low point."

Leonard laughed aloud, one hand reaching to touch Jim's shoulder as he pressed their foreheads together.

Jim looked over at him once more. "Probably shouldn't mention any of this to anyone," he said, pulling back.

"No one would believe me," Leonard chuckled.

Jim touched his shoulder, his face tinged with something that looked like resignation. "Bye," he said, leaving once more, Leonard closing the door behind him, bringing himself back down to earth.

* * *

Several days later Leonard made his way downstairs as he always did, proof positive that the incident a few days before hadn't been a life-changing moment, no, not at all. That Leonard hadn't gone to sleep each night replaying that soft kiss in his head, that he hadn't tried desperately to remember what Jim smelled like, his cologne lingering in Leonard's brain.

What it felt like to be the one who put that million-dollar smile on Jim's face.

Today Scotty was dressed in a bizarre outfit, bright green shirt and pants. Leonard never knew _exactly_ what it was that Scotty did, just that he spent long hours on the internet, and occasionally left for days at a time.

"How you doing?" Scotty asked him.

"Fine," Leonard said, picking through the mail. He noticed a message written next to the phone, forgotten. "What does this say?" he asked, unable to read Scotty's scribble.

Scotty peered over at it. "Your mum," he replied. "Her leg, it's been bothering her something fierce, she said, and she's wondering what its going to take to get you to go visit her."

Leonard glanced over at Scotty. "When did she call?" he wondered.

"A couple days ago."

Rolling his eyes, Leonard sighed. "Thanks for that," he told him. "Any other messages I haven't gotten."

"Nothing important," Scotty replied. "Oi, wait. There was one a few days ago, but I thought it was someone playing a joke on ya, so I didn't write it down."

Leonard turned his head. "Who was it?" he asked.

Scotty got quiet, as if trying to recall. "He said his name was Jim, I think, and that he was staying at the Ritz." Scotty shook his head. "It got weird, though. Said if you wanted to talk to him, you needed to ask for Optimus Prime."

Leonard's heart froze. "When did he call?" he growled at his roommate, who looked up suddenly, as if surprised this news was anything of importance.

The look on Scotty's face told him that he realized this might not be a prank. "Eh, a few days ago," he replied sheepishly.

"Good God, man," he growled, balling up the message from his mother and throwing it at Scotty before storming off upstairs, sitting himself down on his bed. Pulling out his cell phone, he stared at it for a long moment, his hands shaking. Jim Kirk called him. _Jim Fucking Kirk_. Who had also kissed him, but he was trying hard to forget that, to forget what it felt like to look into those eyes and feel those lips on his. He couldn't want more than that...

 _Probably just wants to give me the shirt back_ , he told himself, looking up the number to the hotel. His fingers shook as they pressed the numbers.

A moment later he heard Jim's voice.

"Hello?"

"Hi, um, this is Leonard. Leonard McCoy. From the bookstore."

He could hear Jim laughing. "Playing it pretty cool there, Leonard, waiting three days to call. Had me wondering."

 _Wondering about what?_ he thought to himself, pushing it aside. "My roommate is an idiot," he told Jim. "I didn't get the message until a few minutes ago."

"Oh, okay," Jim replied, then got quiet.

Leonard paused, not sure what to say next. "Well, um, did you want to..."

Jim interrupted. "I thought maybe we could talk a bit more? Can you come over here, around four?"

"Yeah, I can do that," Leonard replied, taking a deep breath. "I should just go ask for Mr. Prime's room?"

"Something like that," he heard. "Later." The line clicked off, and Leonard lay on his bed, looked up at the ceiling and grinned.

* * *

The first thing Leonard noticed when he got off the elevator to the fourth floor was the huge movie poster, Jim's face five feet tall in front of him.

  


The second thing he noticed was the people standing around the hallway, talking quietly to each other. "The effects were better than I expected, but with that director, you know how he likes to-"

"I heard that they've signed on for at least two sequels," another conversation went. Leonard walked until he made it to the room number he'd been given, wondering if he was on the right floor.

The door opened and a young woman answered. "Hello," she said to him. "This way."

Still half-worried about being in the wrong spot, Leonard relaxed when he saw Jim on the other side of the room. "I'm sorry, I didn't get your name," the woman asked, looking down at her clipboard.

"Leonard McCoy," he said.

"And what magazine do you represent?"

"Magazine?" he repeated, watching as her eyebrow went up. Then it made sense. Jim was sitting at a chair, a poster of his latest movie behind him. The people outside.

"Um, magazine," he said once more. His brain settled on the first one he thought of. "Sports Illustrated."

Her eyebrow went even higher. "Hadn't expected you guys," she murmured, writing his name down. "Okay, you've got twelve minutes. Jim," she called out. "Leonard McCoy, Sports Illustrated."

"Thanks, Karen," Jim called out to her, holding in his laughter until she closed the door behind her. "Oh my God, did you say Sports Illustrated?" he laughed, head rolling forward.

"First one I thought of," Leonard chuckled, his eyes taking in Jim up close. _Damn, he looked good_. "I'm glad you called. Hadn't expected it."

"Me neither," Jim admitted. "And hey, I'm sorry about this, we're running a bit behind. Shouldn't take too long, and then we could, I don't know, hang out a bit?"

"That'd be great," Leonard said. "So, how you doing?"

"Been talking to reporters all afternoon," Jim answered, slinking a bit in his chair. "Same questions, same answers. It gets old," he admitted. "But there's a lot of interest in this movie, and I think it's going to be a monster hit."

"I hope so," Leonard told him.

"So, you? How you been, Leonard McCoy?" Jim said, his voice teasing. "Fun times at the bookstore?"

"Oh, we had a shipment of photography books come in by mistake." Leonard leaned back. "Pretty, but useless. You'd have liked them," he added, secretly delighted as Jim laughed aloud at that.

They talked a few more minutes, Leonard trying not to tick out the minutes in his head, but he knew it wasn't long now. This was it - _do or die time_. Steeling his courage, he asked, "So, do you think that maybe we could get together tonight. I'd like to buy you dinner, if I could."

"Can't," Jim said, his face showing regret, and _wasn't that something_. "There's this party for the movie, I'm supposed to be there."

"Oh, right. Well, maybe tomorrow?"

"I'm leaving tomorrow," Jim said softly.

A pause. "Well shit," Leonard said, earning him a chuckle from Jim. "Sorry, I'm just... I'm going home to commit murder to my roommate."

"It's not his fault, I should have explained better," Jim told him. "I'll be back in town next month, maybe we could get together then?"

"I'd like that," Leonard said, the disappointment inside him somewhat quelled by the very notion that this man sitting in front of him wanted to spend some time with him, even if it was the near future. "What sort of things do you-"

The door opened and Karen bustled back into the room. "One more question, Mr McCoy," she chirped, heading toward them.

Leonard sighed, turning back to Jim. "So, my readers want to know if they can expect any sports in this movie."

Jim shook his head. "A lot of me running and falling, but no organized sports."

"Any particular reason for this glaring omission, Mr Kirk?"

"Well, we're on a spaceship," Jim deadpanned.

Leonard quirked a smile as he stood. "Perhaps you could get some put in the sequel."

Jim considered it. "I'll see what I can arrange. Thanks for stopping by," he stood, shaking Leonard's hand. "How many left, Karen," he asked.

"Just a few more left, Jim," she said to him. "If you'll come this way, Mr McCoy," she took Leonard by the arm and pointed him toward the door, "we'll be able to get you through the others real quick-like."

 _The others?_

The others ended up being four more members of the cast. As Leonard hadn't seen the movie, and had the most rudimentary idea of the plot, their interviews were less than satisfactory for all parties involved.

He'd finished the last one, and was walking down the hall when he heard Karen's voice. "Mr McCoy," she called out. "This way, please."

Curious, he followed her into another room, one he hadn't visited yet during his afternoon's excusion. Once inside, he saw Jim sitting on a sofa near the window. He was drinking a beer and looking out over the city.

When he noticed Leonard he grinned. "Hey you."

"You must be some glutton for punishment, if you want me to ask you more questions about that damned movie," Leonard grinned, walking toward Jim.

"Yours weren't the dumbest questions I had all day, if you can believe that," Jim rolled his eyes, then took a deep breath as Leonard sat down. "Okay, so this might be the craziest thing I've ever done," Jim said, looking around to see if anyone else was watching, but his people had left the room, "and I've done some crazy things, but... I'm free tonight."

"What?"

"That thing I had to do? I got out of it," Jim smiled conspiratorially.

Leonard stared for a moment, as if he couldn't believe it. "You're free... you're free," he repeated, grinning widely. "Great. Um, want to go have dinner - oh wait, shit," he groaned, slumping back.

"Something wrong?"

"It's my sister's birthday," he told him. "We're having, its like a birthday dinner. Fuck," he shook his head. "Forgot all about it."

"It's okay," Jim told him.

"No, I'm sure I can get out of it," Leonard answered. "I see her all the time, she won't mind."

"No, I mean, if its all right with you, I'll go with you."

Jim Kirk wanted to come with him... Leonard's face showed his confusion. "Come with me to my sister's party?"

"Unless there's a problem?" Jim replied, looking less confident now.

"No, no, not at all... I mean-" Leonard stopped, then started again. "I'd love it if you could come with me tonight."

Jim grinned again, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Excellent."

 

* * *

 

The smoke alarm was going off when Nyota knocked on the door of the elegant townhouse in Telegraph Hill. Hikaru answered the door with a sigh. "Pasha wanted to make you prime rib," he told her, kissing her cheek.

  


"Oh dear," she said, kissing him back. "Does that mean we're ordering out for dinner?"

"It is not that bad," they heard the voice, a slight Russian accent coming from the direction of the kitchen. Soon Pavel rounded the corner, grinning. "Once I trim the burnt parts, the inside will be perfect," he said, hugging her. "С ДНЁМ РОЖДЕНИЯ, Nyota. Happy birthday."

  


"Thanks, guys, for all of this," she said, walking into their warm living room, dropping her coat off on the sofa. "You didn't have to go to so much trouble."

"Please," Sulu told her. "Hey, did you hear Len is bringing someone to dinner? A date." Pavel laughed as he headed back to the kitchen.

"No way," she said. "Anyone we know?"

"Wouldn't say, just that there would be another person." Soon the doorbell rang, and two sets of eyes turned to the door. "Let's see who's coming to dinner," Sulu grinned, opening the door.

Leonard stood next to Jim, rocking slightly on his heels. "Evenin'," he said. "Happy birthday, sis," he leaned in to hug Nyota.

"Thanks," she said, hugging him tight before turning her eyes to her brother's companion. "Wow, did anyone ever tell you that you look just like-"

"So, um, this is Jim," Leonard said quickly, interrupring his sister. "Jim, this is my sister, Nyota, and my best friend, Hikaru."

They stood silent for half a second before Nyota extended her hand. "Jim," she said with a smile. "Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise," he told her. "Oh, and happy birthday," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small wrapped box. "For you."

"Oh my God," she whispered. "You totally didn't have to do this," as Hikaru introduced himself and shook Jim's hand as well. "Please, come in."

Once inside, Nyota poured everyone some wine, and they migrated toward the kitchen. "This is going to be fun," Hikaru told Leonard. "Pasha's gonna flip. We just Netflixed 'The Second Coming' last weekend. Great movie, one of our favorites," he told Jim, who chuckled a quiet "Thanks."

"Pasha, come meet Jim," Hikaru called out, grinning.

Pavel turned around the corner, calling out, "It's nice to meet you-" before seeing who it was standing in front of him. Eyes widening, he dropped the dish he was holding, and stared.

Leonard shook his head, trying not to laugh. "That wasn't very nice," he told Hikaru, bending down to help Jim and Nyota, who were picking up the pieces of broken dish. "Here, give that to me," Leonard said as he took the chards from Jim's and Nyota's hands. "Pavel Chekov, this is Jim."

"Jim Kirk," he said, reaching out to shake his hand. "Nice to meet you," he added. "Sorry about that," he said, pointing at the ground where Sulu was now sweeping.

"You are sorry?" Pavel laughed. "No, I am sorry." Narrowing his eyes at Hikaru, who stood next to him, kissing his cheek, he turned back to Jim. "My partner here thinks himself prankster. I might not feed him tonight."

The doorbell rang again. "I'll get this one," Nyota called out, and soon Leonard's roommate Scotty was in the room, and introduced to Jim.

  


After a few minutes Jim excused himself, and left to find the bathroom. The moment he left the room, everyone turned on Leonard.

"Oi, is that Jim, the one from the phone?" Scotty asked. "Bloody sorry, mate, I'm sorry-"

"Len!" Nyota screamed quietly. "Why didn't you tell me you knew him?"

Leonard shrugged, trying not to look as nervous as he felt. "It's all been sort of sudden," he said.

Hikaru gave him a look. "What?" he grumbled.

Sulu just shook his head. "Be careful," he told him.

"Always," Leonard reminded him. "You know me, I don't do things like-"

"Like what, like date movie stars?" Jim's footsteps could be heard as he walked back into the room, and as Sulu stood to walk to the kitchen, he put his hand on Leonard's shoulder, giving him a squeeze.

"Jim, you like prime rib?" Hikaru called out as he walked back into the kitchen.

"Love it," Jim replied, seating himself next to Leonard on the sofa, and falling into an easy conversation with Scotty about sports cars.

* * *

Dinner was eaten, and Scotty offered to help Sulu clear the plates while everyone else kept up the pleasant conversation that had been going on throughout dinner.

Soon they brought out coffee and a plate of brownies.

 

  


"Lookie there, a wee lass left over," Scotty called out to the single square left on the plate after everyone received their brownie. "Well, I'll just be taking this off your hands."

"Not so fast," Pavel told him. "It is Nyota's birthday. She should have first chance at it."

"If someone else wants it, they can have it," she looked around.

"I think we should do this fair and square, then," Sulu told him. "A challenge," he said, standing and holding the brownie as everyone rolled their eyes and groaned. "No, this one will be better than the last challenge we had."

Clearing his throat, he continued. "I think we can all agree we've all had a bit of bad luck lately. So," he grinned, "I award this brownie to the one who can tell the saddest tale."

"Well that would be me then, wouldn't it?" Scotty called out. "Look at me, no girlfriend, no prospects for any real job, not with the market the way it is now. My roommate is a dour sour-puss. No offense," he said to Leonard.

"None taken," Leonard drawled back indifferently.

"To top it off, I'm getting right fat, and soon no one will fancy a shag with me," he ended. "By rights, that brownie is mine."

"Not so fast," Nyota called out. "My roommate has a different guy or girl over every day, and right now they are probably fucking in my bed. Sorry," she said to Jim, who waved her off. "I can't meet a nice guy in this town, and those I do meet are all married or gay."

"And what am I, chopped liver?" Scotty muttered.

She frowned, ignoring him. "I'm really worried about getting laid off, or worse, transferred to another city, because more than anything I don't want to leave you guys. So, I think that brownie is mine."

"Getting transferred is one thing," Hikaru said in a soft tone, and everyone at the table got quiet. "It's better than being fired, or shoved out the door of the Air Force with an honorable discharge, just because you can't pretend to be someone you're not." He turned to Chekov, who was looking back at him and giving him a special smile. "Flew a F-15E Strike Eagle, combat missions in Iraq and Afghanistan," he said to Jim. "Won six air medals, and they released me from my duties because I love that man over there." He looked down and chuckled bitterly.

The table was quiet for a few minutes before Leonard spoke. "Yeah," he drawled, "but you're gonna make millions in the private industry once you get your avionics business off the ground."

"That is so true," Sulu answered seriously, then laughed. "So no brownie for me?"

"No," Pavel laughed. "But maybe for me?" He looked at the others. "They have put our application for adoption on hold, pending more paperwork." He looked over at Sulu and shrugged. "We may end up going through private agency. More expensive, but... we just want to have family. But because I am from another country, because Sulu's been discharged from the service, because we are gay couple... we do not look stable enough right now to raise child."

Nyota took his hand. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

Chekov squeezed it back. "Da", he agreed. "But what can we do. We are at their mercy."

Scotty chimed in. "Nyota will do it for ya. She'll have a baby for ya, won't ya love?" he poked her shoulder.

"As much as I know she loves us," Hikaru looked in her direction, "I don't think we're quite there yet. So, now, what about Leonard?" Hikaru's eyes shined as he turned to his friend.

"What about me?" Leonard shook his head.

"You want to make a run at the brownie?"

"Well," he sat back. "It might be a bit unfair, as my bad luck's gone on so long I can't remember not having it. So far its all been a bit of a half-assed sort of life. Marriage failed, I never see my daughter since they moved across the country. Flunked out of med school, can't afford my house so I have to take in bizarre roommates, no offense."

"None taken," Scotty chimed in.

"I'm thirty-five going on seventy, a prematurely old and grumpy bastard."

"And Jim will never want to see you again, I'm pretty sure, once we tell him that your nickname in school was Bones."

"Bones?" Jim laughed.

"It's 'cause I was skinny as a kid."

"It's because he had a-" Sulu started laughing, tears coming out of his eyes, "-well, his morning wood would last a bit longer than just the mornings in college."

Leonard shook his head. "You're a dead man," he told him. "Now that I've been properly shamed, can I assume the brownie is mine?"

"What about me?" Jim asked as everyone turned toward him.

"You?" Nyota turned to him, looking surprised. "You want a shot at the brownie?"

"I think I can make a case," Jim replied with a grin. "No one in show business takes me seriously. I try to go in for some dramatic parts, something where I might get to, I don't know, actually act, and they all look at me as if I've got drool running down my face."

He shrugged. "I can't go outside without cameras following me - I got in trouble a few months ago; they were pushing and shoving someone I was with and I pushed back, just to get them away from us. Slapped me with a ten-million dollar lawsuit that I'm still fighting."

Jim continued, playing with his napkin as he spoke. "My family life is fucked - dad died when I was a baby, step-father used to hit me, haven't spoken to my brother in ten years... got no real friends, no one that I could sit around a table and talk to like this." He looked around to see their reactions to his revelation. "Surely that's got to be worth a brownie."

A quiet settled over the table again. "Whatever," Scotty finally laughed, breaking the silence. "You're Jim Kirk. No brownie for you," he said as they all started laughing good-naturedly.

"You probably can't eat it anyway, it'll make you fat and no one will hire you," Nyota told him.

Jim laughed aloud at that. "You're probably right," he said, watching as she cut it up into small pieces, everyone getting a bite.

"Thanks for all of this, guys," she said to all of them. "I love you all so much."

"Happy birthday, sweetie," Leonard reached over and kissed her on the head, catching Jim's eyes. He hadn't known about his family situation - and it made him realize how special it was to have these people in his life.

 

  


 

* * *

They left soon after, walking down the street toward the more commercial area, where it would be easier to catch a cab. "So, what kind of acting do you want to do?" Leonard asked.

Jim shrugged, looking over at him. "I dunno... I mean, I majored in English Lit, if you can believe that. Studied Shakespeare and Dickens, did some theatre in college. I think I'd like to do that again," he admitted. "But every time I bring it up, they wave another summer blockbuster at me, save the planet, save humanity, kill the bad guys..."

He stopped talking, his eyes looking up. "As many times as I've been here, to San Fransisco, I've never been able to go to the top of that," he said, pointing at Coit Tower, a few blocks away.

  


"Great view of the city," Leonard admitted. "You should - hey, where are you going?"

"Come find out," Jim called out, walking ahead, Leonard having to jog to catch up to him.

"You want to go up there now?" Leonard asked, disbelieving.

"Why not? I might not ever get the chance to go up there at night, with no one around. I mean, there's stairs, right?"

"Yeah," Leonard answered. "I'm not sure we're supposed to go up there, it being dark and closed and all."

"You abide by rules like that, Bones?" Jim turned around, teasing him as he walked ahead toward the park.

"Of course not, do you Bones," he muttered to himself, chasing after Jim.

* * *

"So, how did your meeting go? The one the other day, you know, when I spilled coffee on you?" Leonard asked as they slowly climbed up the hill.

"It went good," Jim told him. "I'm going to be a medic in my next film, so they want me to follow some doctors around to get a grasp of what they do." A few moments passed and it was Jim's turn to ask. "How old is your daughter?"

"She's ten," he said. "Her name's Joanna. Her mom remarried, she moved back to Georgia with the new husband after the divorce."

"Georgia? I wondered about that accent," Jim grinned. "How come you didn't go back?"

"Wasn't my home anymore," he said. "Anyway, Nyota's here, and she'd never go back to Georgia, so... here I am."

"Here you are." They made it up to the top of the steep hill, slightly out of breath. "That's the most beautiful thing I've seen in a long time," Jim said, eyes gazing out over the view of the Golden Gate Bridge and Bay Bridge. The water below sparkled like diamonds, and Jim sat down, looking up as Leonard sat next to him, breathing heavily from the walk.

"Now seriously, what in the world could make that climb worthwhile?" Leonard mumbled, turning to Jim, who leaned forward and kissed him.

"I stand corrected," Leonard murmured, their faces close. "You know, I think I fucking love this view," Leonard said, smiling as he lifted his hand to Jim's face and returned the kiss, deepened it, twisted his body until they faced each other. "This is crazy," Leonard said.

"Yeah," Jim admitted, fingers slipping into Leonard's hand, lacing together.

"I don't suppose," Leonard could hardly believe the words coming out his mouth, "there was any way you could come back- to my place?"

Jim shook his head, looking out over the water again. "It would be complicated. There are people waiting for me," he said. "But can I see you tomorrow?" he asked hopefully.

Leonard pushed a strand of hair out of Jim's face. "I thought you were leaving tomorrow."

"I was," he answered, pressing their mouths together for a deeper kiss.

* * *

They met again several times over the next week - they shared a quiet dinner, then lunch, and the next day dinner again. They talked about their lives and their dreams, talking like more like old friends, just enjoying each other's company. Leonard admitted to Jim that between his father's illness back home and his failing marriage, his plans to be a doctor sort of fell on the side of the road.

"The bookstore had been her idea," he told him, "but it's not the worst way to make a living."

Jim talked about how he and his mother had recently grown closer, but he'd felt like she was more interested in his fame than in him as a person. "I'm afraid to tell her anything about me, you know? It's like, I know it'll end up splashed across the tabloids, twisted and garbled, to make me look like a jerk, sell their papers."

Leonard learned that Jim felt all alone in the universe. Jim learned Leonard felt the same.

* * *

They were spotted on a Friday night, having dinner in a small Chinatown restaurant. Jim had called his car to come get them, but there were photographers waiting outside the restaurant and as soon as they walked out the doors it started. Leonard had never experienced anything like the yelling and screaming, the flashes going off in his eyes and how close those goddamned photographers actually got to them.

"Come on, Jim, give us a wave," one of them shouted. "What about your friend, can he wave at us?"

"Who's your friend, Jim? He your boyfriend?" another joked, trying to get a reaction, any reaction. "Give us a kiss then."

Jim looked up, moving aggressively toward the man when Leonard caught his hand, stopping him. The lights went off, blinding him, but he held onto Jim until they ducked inside the car, tinted windows protecting them from the outside world.

"I shouldn't have done that." Jim was shaking his head, looking down at his fists.

"You didn't do anything wrong. They're like animals."

"Still... when I'm around you, I don't know. I don't like them bothering you. I just want to -" he stopped, not saying anymore until they were down the street. "I can have him take you home," Jim said, pointing at the driver, "unless... do you want to come back to my hotel with me tonight?" he asks, his face lit up with some sort of hopeful look.

"I do," Leonard whispered, taking Jim's hand in his. All the time they'd spent together, they hadn't done more than kiss and touch a little. Always people around, always looking out for Jim's privacy. Leonard wondered too if Jim might be wary, cautious, wanting to see if Leonard was for real or not.

"Hotel," Jim called out to the driver, reaching over and pulling Leonard's hand up to his mouth to give it a kiss. Soon they were in front of the hotel, making their way into the lobby. "Okay, give me a few minutes to get everyone out of there, then come up."

Five minutes later Leonard found himself making his way up the elevator and down the hallway, a bottle of champagne in his hands. Knocking on the door, the smile on his face was so bright he could hardly stand it. _It's going to happen, finally,_ he thought to himself, and he can't even remember the last time he felt this good.

Then Jim opened the door and something about the look on his face sort of deflated Leonard's mood. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"You have to go," Jim said quietly. "I'm sorry, something's come up. I'll call you in a-"

"Who is that?" A voice, a female voice called out. Soon the voice had a body to go with it, a beautiful blonde with a toothpaste-ad smile, wearing an outfit that strategically covered the sensitive parts of her body. "Ooh, is that for us, honey?" she cooed, reaching over at the bottle. "Jimmy?" she asked, not understanding the silence.

"Room service," Leonard finally spat out, his stomach twisting inside. "Here you go, ma'am," he told her with a smile, her face as bright and happy as his had been just moments ago. "Thanks," he said to Jim as he turned and began walking off.

"Lucy, go in there, I'll be there in a minute," Jim said, closing the door behind him. "Hey, wait," he called out, going after Leonard, having to run to catch up to his long strides. "Look, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't know she was going to be here."

"Hell of a surprise, Jimmy. Who is she?"

Jim took a breath, looking down. "We were dating," he admitted. "I think they flew her in," he said, looking past Leonard's shoulder. "Like, maybe I was spending too much time with someone, with someone who-"

"With a guy," Leonard finished the sentence for him. "Gotta be hard, making money with all those manly action movies when you're sucking cock, right?"

Jim's eyes hardened, darting around the hallway to make sure no one was around. "I don't know what you want me to say," he whispered.

"I think goodbye is the traditional response to this situation," Leonard replied, heading to the elevators.

"Bones," Jim called out.

"Goodbye, Jim," Leonard said as he stepped on the elevator.

* * *

Despite the ache in his heart, Leonard saw the movie. It was fantastic, just like everyone said it would be.

  


And Jim was fantastic, just like everyone knew he would be.

* * *

Three weeks later, Leonard sat around the dinner table of the Sulu-Chekov household, finishing dinner with Hikaru and Pavel. "Any luck with the adoption plans?"

"We have got lawyer drawing up some paperwork," Pavel sighed, collecting the dishes from the table. "Might actually have an easier time going international, if you can believe that. We might be heading overseas soon to go look at the children," Pavel said, smiling over at Hikaru.

"I'd believe anything at this point," Leonard told them. "I hope it works out for you. You guys would be great parents, God knows you take care of me better than I do."

"How are you doing, Len?" Hikaru asked. "I mean, how are you really?"

  


"I'm great," Leonard told him. "I mean, nothing's changed, not really. Had a good time for a couple of days, then it ended." At least, that is what he was telling himself. "What can I say?"

Pavel's voice rang out from the living room. "Come look at this," he said.

  


They followed him, eyes turning to the entertainment show on the television. They saw Jim on the screen, being followed by paparazzi again, some of them getting so close that Leonard felt himself stiffen and growl. All of a sudden, one of them reached for the girl walking next to him, the one Leonard recognized as Karen, his PA. Soon the screen shook as Jim shoved the photographer that touched her, and began yelling at all of them to leave her alone. Flashes went off, the cameras shaking and everyone began screaming questions.

Both Pavel and Hikaru looked over at Leonard, who sat motionless, his hands balled into fists.

* * *

Two days after that Leonard was returning home from work when he found a surprise sitting on his doorstep.

"Hey you," he called out as casually as he could to Jim, looking fairly incognito in a hoodie and sunglasses as he pecked at his cell phone.

  


"Hi," Jim replied, looking up at Leonard. "I went out for a bit, and now my hotel's surrounded, and my people aren't going to be in town until tomorrow. I thought maybe..." he stopped and sighed. "I didn't know where else to go."

"Come on in," Leonard answered, opening the door for Jim and following him inside.

* * *

If Scotty was surprised to see Jim, he didn't show it. "Hallo there," he called out when he arrived later that afternoon. He was dressed in a wet suit today, no explanation asked for or given.

"He's interesting," Jim said later after Scotty left as they stood in the kitchen, talking.

"He's not the worst roommate a person could have. Clean, takes care of his things. Just not a real people-person, if you know what I mean. So, what's been going on with you?" he asked politely, trying to stay as friendly as he could without looking like his heart was broken.

Jim snorted. "You saw the thing on TV? Fucking photographer grabs Karen and I almost get arrested for it." He took the beer that Leonard offered him with a nod. "Movie studio flipped, threatened to replace me on the project unless I promised not to get into anymore trouble with the photo pigs. So I'm trying to lay low." Jim leaned against the counter, stretching. "I'll be better once shooting starts. We're filming on a base, so they won't be getting close to set, I can get driven in and out."

"That's no way to live, Jim," Leonard said, then shut his mouth. Who was he to tell this guy how to live his life.

Jim didn't answer, just gave Leonard a glance and went back to the living room and picked up his reading.

Leonard looked over at Jim's reading material. "Is that a script?" he asked.

"Yeah, my new movie. We start shooting in a couple days, and I still don't have some of this dialogue right," he frowned. "It's all medical jargon, and it's gets complicated."

"Need some help?"

Jim nodded, looking grateful. "Would you go over some lines with me?"

"Yeah, that would be fun," Leonard replied.

* * *

"He must have taken a header off his bike into the street," Jim said as he lay on the sofa, eating an apple. "Bad scalp-lac and hematoma right-paritial-temporal."

Leonard looked over at him, stifling his chuckle as he continued reading from the script. "Decreased breath sounds on the right. What should we do?"

Jim sat up quickly as if spurred on by the dialogue. "I need a pulse-ox stat, and put some gloves on."

"Hey, you aren't even supposed to be-"

"This kid is gonna die if we don't get to work right now," Jim said, standing as he continued to eat. "Right pupil is sluggish and slightly larger than the left. Now get me 100 of fentanyl, and page neurosurg stat." He looked over at Leonard. "How was that?"

"I think you're ready," Leonard told him, tossing his script on the floor. "I hope the patient survives, Doctor."

Jim sat back down, stretching out on the sofa more comfortably this time. "That is one thing I could never do. Being around sick and injured people? Blood?" He shook his head. "Only time I can handle seeing blood like that is if it's mine."

A moment went by without anyone speaking. Leonard looked over to see Jim studying him. "What?" he asked.

"Why didn't you go back to med school. It's obvious you know this shit, and you're smart, I mean, I can tell you're just the kind of guy that can pick things up fast.

"Not fancying starting over at thirty-five," Leonard replied.

"That's not that old," Jim snorted, tossing a wad of paper at him. "I think you should do it."

* * *

They ate pizza for dinner, ordered in by Scotty who grabbed six slices and then went into his room. "He spends a lot of time on his computer," Leonard explained.

"Porn?"

"Most likely," he nodded, then they both busted out laughing. Leonard pulled out a tub of ice cream. "Want some?"

"Yeah," Jim said, as Leonard tossed him a spoon. They ate it straight from the tub, Jim asking about Leonard's sister and friends, and Leonard wanting to hear about how the press tour in Europe for the space movie had been.

"Long trip," Jim said with a sigh. "Lots of towns, lots of people. You forget where you're at after a while." He looked around at Leonard's home, a wistful look on his face. "I have an apartment in LA that I never see. I couldn't even tell you what's on my walls," he said, staring at a print hanging on the wall over Leonard's sofa. "You like that?"

 

  


"Yeah," Leonard told him. "I don't know, never went much for those paintings that don't really look like anything, but I saw this and I just - it reminds me of the dark, you know? I imagine that's what space is like, dark and dangerous but full of color. I don't know... guess that sounds silly, don't it?"

"Not a bit," Jim said, staring at it as if he were trying to see what Leonard saw. "I like Bones," he said after a while.

"You do?"

"It's a good name."

Leonard laughed. "Okay," he said, taking the pizza box back to the kitchen while Jim finished the ice cream and wondered again what the hell he was doing here with this kid. He'd never met anyone more in need of a friend, and Leonard decided then and there that even if nothing else ever happened, Jim would have that from him, always.

* * *

Leonard fetched a blanket, sheet, and a pillow, and placed them on the sofa. "Sorry I can't offer you better accommodations," he said.

Jim snorted. "No, really, don't. I'm the one putting you guys out. And... this is the best," he looked around. "I haven't had so much fun just sitting around and talking since... well, since the last time I saw you, Bones," Jim said with a grin, then his face fell. "I'm really sorry about what happened, you know."

"I know," Leonard admitted. "It hurt, I won't lie, but... I guess it must be hard being you sometimes."

Jim looked up, appraising Leonard's words, as if checking for sarcasm or some other meanness. Sensing the sincerity, he relaxed a fraction and nodded. "They think they know what's best for me, for my career. They meant well," Jim said. "But sometimes, I - I think they care more about my career than I do."

"What do you want?"

"A real life," Jim admitted. "A family maybe, one day. Friends, like you have. Someone... someone like you."

Leonard was looking down during this whole conversation. He'd just gotten to a place where he wasn't thinking about Jim every hour of every day, and now here he was, in his house, on his sofa, talking about wanting him. "Jim," he began, looking awkward.

"Yeah," Jim said quietly. "Every time I try something normal, it gets fucked in the end. I'm sorry. But you asked, and I-" he stopped talking. "I mean, one day, I'll have to give it up. I won't be the prettiest face on the block anymore. They won't want me for the romantic comedies, won't want me to blow up the asteroids or detonate the bombs... can't do this forever."

"What about the theatre," Leonard asked, changing the subject.

Jim chuckled, looking up. "I dunno," he said. "It's hard, I mean, its every night, live audience, you have to work with them and the cast and crew and..." Jim stopped. "You think I could?"

Leonard rolled his eyes. "I know you could."

Jim looked around and began picking up some of the trash around the room, empty bottles and wads of paper they'd thrown at each other, and carried them into the kitchen. Setting himself in front of the sink, Jim began washing the dishes.

"Hey, don't do that," Leonard called out, moving toward him.

"Least I can do," he said, finishing the dinner plates and glasses, handing them to Leonard, who dried them and put them away.

It felt so right, so comfortable, yet Leonard couldn't speak, afraid his voice would betray how just this small task together made him feel complete. "I think I better head to bed now," he said as the last spoon was put away. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Will do," Jim said, stopping Leonard and resting a hand gently on his shoulder as he passed by. "Thanks again, for everything."

* * *

An hour later Leonard was under the covers and reading when he heard a knock on the door. "Yes?" he asked, heart in his throat.

Scotty's head popped in. "What's going on?" he wondered aloud.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, he's down there all alone, you're up here, all alone..." Scotty looked confused. "I thought he broke up with his girlfriend."

"I don't know - did he?"

"It was in the papers," Scotty told him. "Why aren't you-" Scotty made a crude fucking gesture.

"Go away," Leonard told him, shaking his head as the door closed behind the Scot. A moment later, another knock.

"I said go to bed," Leonard growled.

"Sorry." The voice was not Scotty's, and Leonard couldn't remember a time when he'd leapt so fast from his bed to open the door, almost breaking his ankle in the process. "Wait, no," he called out, seeing Jim standing there in his boxers, taking a few steps back.

"I thought you were him," he said, pointing at the door on the far end of the hall.

The shadows hid part of Jim's face, and he looked younger than his age. "Can I come in?" he asked.

Leonard reached out for his hand and pulled him closer. Once inside his room the moonlight spilled over both of them, giving them a glow as they looked at each other carefully. Leonard ran a finger across Jim's cheeks, his nose, his lips. "Wow," he whispered, closing his eyes as Jim repeated the motion on his face.

"Yeah," Jim said before taking Leonard's face in his hands and pulling it toward him. They kissed slowly at first, then as it grew deeper and more passionate, they began moving with more haste, pulling off pants and underwear and _yes_ , now there was nothing between them but moonlight, and sometimes not even that.

The next morning they sat across from each other in Leonard's bed, Jim's back against the headboard, Leonard against the foot board, still watching each other as if both of them were waiting for the morning to come and end their dream. "This is the craziest thing I've ever done," Jim told him, pulling on Leonard's toes.

"What, being with a guy?" Leonard asked.

Jim shook his head. "No, I've done that before," he said. "I mean, just... being with a normal person. Sitting in bed like this the next morning, not running off before it gets too complicated."

Leonard laughed.

Jim tossed a pillow at him. "You know what I mean... people in the business, they know how these things go, the lines to say, what the rules are. This," he pointed at Leonard and himself, "this is breaking all the rules."

"You abide by rules like that, Jim?" Leonard asked.

Jim smiled again, that blinding smile that earned him twenty million dollars a picture and no real life. Then he leaned over and pounced on top of Leonard, kissing him. "Guess not," he breathed into his ear before pushing himself on top of Leonard. "Can I stay here a bit longer?" he asked hopefully.

"Stay forever," Leonard answered, arms wrapped around Jim as they kissed, now exploring each other in the light of the morning sun.

* * *

An hour later, freshly showered, they ambled downstairs for a late breakfast. Bones wore his pajama bottoms, and lent Jim a pair of jogging shorts. "You like omelets?" Jim asked.

"Sure," Leonard laughed. "Making me breakfast?"

"Another one of my secrets. I'm ridiculously talented," he told Leonard, who stood behind him, kissing his neck.

They both looked up when the doorbell rang. "Let me get rid of them," Leonard muttered.

He peered through the peephole, but something was blocking it. Confused, Leonard opened the door. A hundred cameras went off, snapping pictures, reporters calling out his name, screaming at him, asking where Jim was.

  


 

Like a deer in headlights he stood there, completely at a loss for words until he heard footsteps behind him. Jim, angrier than Leonard had ever seen him, pulling him from the doorway and slamming the door behind them. "Fuck!" he screamed, pounding his fist against the wall. "Fuck," he called out again.

"What was that?" Leonard asked.

"What do you think," Jim spat back at him. "Did you tell anyone I was here?"

"What?" Leonard whipped around to look at Jim, regaining his composure. "Did I - no, of course not."

"Your friends? Your sister? Anyone?"

"No, I didn't, and they would have never given you up to them, you know that," Leonard yelled back at him.

"So this morning the entire San Francisco press corp just woke up and, I don't know, guessed where I'd be?"

Scotty's voice could be heard, singing in the shower, and Leonard closed his eyes, realizing who must have said something. "I'm so sorry," he told Jim. "None of this was supposed to happen."

"Well it did happen, Leonard," Jim said, his voice icy as he pulled out his cell phone and punched some numbers. "And tomorrow your picture, half-naked, will be plastered all over the rags next to mine, so get ready for it. Look who's fucking Jim now. Good job there, I'm sure your friends will all be impressed."

"That's a goddamned lie, and you know it," Leonard growled, pushing him on the shoulder.

Jim pushed back. "Get away from me," he hissed, turned around and headed up the stairs. "Yeah, it's me. No, I need out now. Same place as before. Yeah, I know, just... come, now." Leonard winced as his bedroom door slammed shut.

Jim came down a few minutes later, full dressed in what he was wearing yesterday to find Leonard sitting at the kitchen table, head in his hands. Looking up at Jim, Leonard tried to think of something, anything that might turn this situation around, but in retrospect, this is the only way it could end.

Jim's phone rang. He answered it with a sigh, "Okay, I'm ready," then began walking to the door.

"Jim," Leonard called out, watching as the other man stopped, but didn't turn around. "Take care of yourself."

"You too, Bones," Jim said softly, before pulling the hoodie over his head, sliding his sunglasses on, and opened the door. A large security man made a path for him out past the throngs and into the back of a car.

 

* * *

 _Nine months later_

Nyota burst through the door of the bookstore, nodding at Spock. "Where is he?" she asked.

"In his office, studying," Spock replied, eyes making longer contact with her, warming slightly. "I would not be certain that an interruption would be appreciated."

"I promise, he'll love this," she told him, giving him a special smile, which he almost returned. "Stay here, I'll be back in a bit."

Bounding into Leonard's office, she dropped a playbill in front of him. "Good morning, brother dear."

  


Leonard pushed it aside as he continued reading. "I've got a quiz tomorrow," he growled. "This needs to be a life or death situation or someone is getting hurt."

"Look," she told him again, pushing it in front. "These aren't even at the theatre yet. A friend of mine at the publishing house got a copy and sent it to me."

Leonard sighed, pushing his book aside for a moment to check out what she'd brought him. _"Much Ado About Nothing_ ," he saw on the front, reading it aloud. "And?"

"Look who's staring in it," she told him, opening it up to the dog-eared page.

Leonard's throat tightened up. There he was, Jim Kirk, staring in an honest-to-goodness play, Shakespeare, no less. '"Much Ado About Nothing. That's the truth," he muttered, pushing it aside.

"No, you stop right there," she told him, pulling up a chair to his desk. "Look at me, Leonard, I know this past year's been rough, but you've done so much these last few months, I can't begin to tell you how proud I am of you."

Ticking off on her fingers, she continued. "You managed to get your custody situation revised, and don't tell me having Jo with us for Christmas wasn't the best thing ever. Mom's still talking about it. Now you're back in school, studying to be a doctor like we all know you should be -"

"I couldn't do that without you helping here at the shop," he interrupted.

"That is neither here nor there," she told him. "You have worked so fuckin' hard to turn things around for yourself - why not go all the way and finish it right." Pushing the playbill in front of him, she sighed. "Go see him and tell him you miss him. At least end it better than last time you saw him."

"I don't want to repeat that, ever again," he told her with a sad voice, sadder than she'd ever heard him use.

"Len, don't leave it like that. I know he cared about you, it was so easy to see on his face."

"Shakespeare, huh?" He looked up at her. "Damned kid."

"Me or him?"

"Both," he gruffed. "Now go, let me finish here. Gonna work this afternoon?"

Nyota turned her head toward the door, a smile forming on her face. "I think so," she nodded, moving toward the door. "Spock looks like he needs some company," she added, closing the door behind her.

"Oh, God no," he told himself, pushing away the idea of _that_ one becoming a part of his family.

 

* * *

 

Leonard grabbed a cab and headed toward the theatre listed on the playbill. He slipped the attendant outside a twenty dollar bill, and was let in. Standing in the back, he watched as Jim strode the stage, like a natural, trading barbs with his co-stars, everyone laughing and smiling as they finished the scene.

  


The director, sitting in the front shouted some lines at Jim, who looked up and nodded, then looked further up and spotted Leonard. His face broke out into a wide smile, and he waved, everyone on stage turning to look. Leonard waved back, shaking his head. So much for staying under the radar...

A few minutes later the director called for a break, and Jim jumped off the front of the stage, jogged toward the back, where Leonard was moving up to meet him. "Hey you," Jim said, extending his hand to Leonard, who shook it. "How you doing?"

"Good," Leonard told him, his eyes taking in the small changes in the past year. Off the bat he could tell that Jim looked relaxed, at peace. Whatever he was doing, it was working. "I heard a rumor that someone I knew was here, so I thought I'd check it out."

"Yeah," Jim grinned, skin flushing. "I was gonna send you some opening night tickets, as soon as I got them. A little surprise."

"That's great," Leonard answered slowly, looking down. Now that he was here, he didn't know what to say.

Jim looked equally unsure. "I meant to call," Jim started. "There were some things I needed to say, and-" More people began walking by, so they moved to the side. "Can you hang out here for while? We should be done in about an hour, if that's not too long."

Leonard checked his watch. "Yeah, I can wait."

That brilliant smile. "Awesome," he said. "Be back in a bit," he called out before heading back on stage.

One of the stagehands noticed Leonard sitting in the back, and walked toward him. "Would you like some headphones?" he asked. "Might make it easier to hear them, since the sound system isn't set up yet."

"Thanks," Leonard said, taking the headset, wrapping it around his head. Sure enough, he could make out the lines being read, grinning as he heard their small jokes to each other.

After a few scenes they took another break. Jim looked like he was heading back to check on him when he was stopped by another actor. "Jim," the older man called out. "Who's your friend over there?"

Jim laughed. "Someone I used to know."

He looked out into the audience, as if trying to discern Leonard in the darkness of the back of the theatre. "That the guy from last year, the one in the papers?"

"No," Jim shook his head. "He's just - just a guy I used to know. Helped me out once. I told him I get him some tickets, that's all."

"Oh," the other man seemed satisfied with that answer. "Hey, I was thinking about that scene with Claudio. Maybe instead of..."

Their voices dimmed as the blood rushed into Leonard's ears, buzzing loudly. _A guy he used to know?_ Yeah, he'd read it wrong, right from the start it looked like.

Taking the headphones off, he handed them to a stagehand in the back and left the building.

* * *

Two hours later he heard the bell on his door ring. Standing up, he pushed his textbook aside and headed for the front of the shop, stopping in his tracks when he saw Jim standing there.

"You left," Jim said, a slight accusatory note to his voice.

"I didn't want to bother you," Leonard replied.

"I wanted to be bothered," Jim retorted, moving closer. "I thought you understood that."

"I thought I did too," Leonard said, "but... I heard what you said to that other guy, that I was just some guy bothering you. I didn't want to-"

"Jesus, Bones," Jim turned, hands on his hips as he paced. "I thought that's what you would want me to say. Why on earth would I put you back in that position, where everyone is following you, trying to find out all about you. I thought-" He stopped talking, taking a deep breath.

"Jim," Leonard started slowly. "I just can't deal with all of this. This is who you are, and that's great. I love who you are. You're gorgeous and amazing and everyone in the universe wants to be with you. I'm just - I'm not cut out for that."

"But I'm not that person," Jim said, moving closer. "I mean, I am, but I'm not just that person. Sometimes I'm just Jim. Here, with you, I'm just Jim."

  


Leonard looked at him, not speaking.

Jim sighed. "I'm just a guy," he said quietly. "Just Jim. Standing in front of you, Leonard, asking you to love me."

Leonard's voice cracked when he finally spoke. "I can't, Jim."

  


This was the hardest thing he'd ever done, Christ, even the fucking _divorce_ hadn't hurt this bad. "I'm not sure if I could stand it next time, when my heart gets broken again. I'm just not that strong."

Jim's eyes widened, looked dumbstruck. "Wow," he said. "Okay. Um, right then. I understand, I mean, I probably wouldn't be with someone like-"

"I'm sorry," Leonard said. "I never actually thought that we'd-"

"No, I get it, I do. No hard feelings." Only when Jim stepped back did Leonard see the large package on the floor. "Hey, I picked this up when I was in Europe. Saw it and thought of you." Jim's eyes lowered, even though his face tried not to show the disappointment that was obvious. "Anyway, um, take care, alright?" Jim said, eyes dark and sad as he turned to leave.

Leonard watched as Jim walked out his door. A moment later he turned to sign to "CLOSED", locked the door, and headed to his office where he pulled out a bottle of Jim Beam and began drinking.

* * *

He was still there the next morning when Spock arrived to open the shop. He sent him home to shower and get some clean clothes, but once he left Spock began to wonder if perhaps reinforcements were needed. He called Nyota, who called the others. When Leonard returned at lunchtime, the shop was filled with his friends and family, all gathered around, staring at the painting propped up in his office.

 

  


"Isn't that-" Nyota asked.

"Yeah," Leonard replied.

"You have that in your living room," Sulu added.

"I have a reprint of this in my living room."

"And that's - that is the real one?" Scotty asked.

Leonard nodded, tight-lipped. "I think so."

"Wassily Kandinsky," Chekov said proudly. "One of Russia's most famous painters. Called the Father of Abstract Art," he added, wrapping an arm around Hikaru's shoulder. "A very precious gift, Leonard."

"God, someone tell me I did the right thing, breaking it off with him. I did, didn't I?"

After a moment they began mumbling their agreement with him. "Bones," Sulu said, "you knew from the beginning that you came from different worlds. It was always going to be harder than it had to be."

Nyota nodded. "And you're worth so much more than I think he can give you... what exactly did he tell you?"

Leonard coughed. "He told me that he was just a guy, just Jim, standing in front of me. Asking me to love him."

Silence filled the room, broken only by Nyota's sniffle.

"Leonard," the voice belonged to Spock, who appeared in the doorway. "I can't recall a time when you've acted more illogically. Your feelings are obvious, as are his. He came to see you and quite simply offered you his heart," he said in his calm, rational voice.

  


"It is not my place to comment, but I don't understand what your motivation is in pushing him away."

Leonard's heart stuck in his throat as Spock spoke, his uncanny methodical logic pushing away all the clouds and leaving only the truth. "God, I've fucked this up, haven't I?"

"Len," Nyota reached for him.

"I need a car, who's got a car I can borrow?"

"I'll drive," Sulu said, as they all piled into the SUV. First they headed toward the theatre where Leonard has seen him the previous day, only to find out that the entire cast was giving a press conference at a hotel across town. Racing down the hills of San Francisco, they made it to the Four Seasons hotel, Leonard running out even before the car has stopped moving. "Good luck," his friends shouted as they pulled off to park the car.

 

* * *

Stopping one of the bellhops, he learned the press conference was going on in the ballroom on the first floor. He rushed inside, trying to press forward as far as he could, catching his breath as he listened to the questions being asked. Despite there being several people sitting at the long table on the dais, microphones in front of them, most of the questions seemed to be directed toward Jim.

Jim, who was wearing the shirt Leonard had lent him nearly a year ago, when they'd first met.

  


"Mr Kirk, how do you feel leaving the world of films behind as you try your hand at stage acting?"

Sounds of cameras snapping filled the air as he leaned forward and smiled. "I feel good," he said, tilting his head. "I began in theatre, in college, so to me its more of a return home. Next?"

"Speaking of films," another called out, "Word has it that your next movie is supposed to be a biography of E.M. Forster, noted gay author. You've recently come out and stated that you're bisexual. Are you doing this movie to try and shock people into-"

"I'm going it because it's a damned good script," Jim answered. "Personally, I'm more worried about picking up the British accent than I am about the gayness of it all." Several people chuckled at that, as he nodded at another reporter.

"Aren't you worried that your fans, who've followed you for years are going to be uncomfortable-"

The moderator at the end of the table interrupted. "Mr. Kirk isn't going to answer-"

"No, it's fine. I want to answer that," Jim folded his hands in front of him. "My fans, right. Those who care about me, who want me to be happy have been very supportive, and I appreciate all of them a lot. The ones that don't like it, well, I guess they weren't really fans of mine then, were they?" More camera noises as he settled back into his chair and drank some water.

A few more questions went to some of the other cast members before turning back to Jim. "It's been rumored that you recently bought a house here in San Fransisco. Does that mean that you are planning on moving here?"

Jim shook his head, a trace of emotion slipping through. "No... I had thought that maybe-"

He stopped himself. "No, I'm heading back to LA when the play is over, until it's time to go to England for the movie."

"There were rumors that you were involved with a med student here - is that why you bought the house?"

"We're just friends," Jim said, giving a look to the woman at the end of the table who called out, "Last question."

"Mr Kirk," Leonard called out loudly over the rest.

  


Jim turned his head, catching his eyes as he stood there, face impassive. "Yes?" he asked.

  


"Would there be any sort of circumstances where you and that man might be more than friends?"

Jim's face betrayed nothing. "I had hoped I might have a reason to stay here, but I've been told that wasn't possible."

"But what if that person -"

"His name is Leonard McCoy," another reporter whispered to him.

"Yes, thanks, if Mr McCoy -" Leonard continued.

"Sorry, just one question -"

"No," Jim interrupted her. "Let him finish," his eyes still not giving anything away.

"Would you consider staying if he, that is, Mr McCoy, if he dropped to his knees and begged your forgiveness because he was an idiot and asked you to stay with him forever?"

Jim looked at him, as did most of the room, cameras turning from Jim to Leonard, watching as they stood there staring at each other.

Jim leaned forward, speaking into the microphone. "Then I'd probably say yes."

More cameras went off as realization dawned on the reporters.

Jim leaned over, whispered a few words to the moderator.

"Dominic, would you like to ask your question again?" she asked.

"Certainly," the reporter answered, grinning. "Mr Kirk, it's been rumored that you bought a house in San Francisco. Does that mean you are making your home here?"

That smile. Jim leaned into the microphone. "Yes, yes I am."

* * *

The crowd surrounded them both as the reporters began yelling questions, neither Jim nor Leonard paying any attention. They made their way to each other, still just looking at each other, not wanting to share this with the world, not yet.

Leonard took Jim's hand and they walked off, into a side room, and when they kissed it was like coming home.

 

  


2009.07.20


End file.
